[Intro – lone acoustic guitar, slow, room tone] [Verse 1] I was born on the Bluff where the wind cuts sideways Rough ground, rough hands, rough boys Learned young how to stand at the edge of the circle Close enough to hear it, never one of the noise Got my papers in concrete, in steel and in numbers Built a bridge to a life I didn't want to cross Traded it in for a floor full of shouting Made money on paper, felt like a fraud [Verse 2] Handmade shirts and a watch worth a small house Cufflinks catching the Bloomberg glow Dark when I left, dark when I got home Didn't know if it rained, didn't need to know What's gold doing, where's the rand, what's the dollar That was the only weather I could read Then I sold it all and I drove to the mountains Bought a little farm I didn't know I'd need [Chorus] I was lost in the numbers, now I'm found in the ground Dirt on my hands where the cufflinks were The vine don't ask why the hard years come It drinks the rain and it takes the sun And it grows, Lord, it grows Into the best of itself That's all it ever knows [Verse 3] The sun wrote its warning on my skin, and they cut it My heart lost its rhythm, forgot how to keep time A gun through the window one Joburg evening Reminded me nothing in this life is mine Sat with my wife in the cold white rooms Praying for a harvest that kept dying on the vine Then two boys came, like rain after a long dry And the mountain said, son, it was always gonna be fine [Chorus] I was lost in the numbers, now I'm found in the ground Dirt on my hands where the cufflinks were The vine don't ask why the hard years come It drinks the rain and it takes the sun And it grows, Lord, it grows Into the best of itself That's all it ever knows [Bridge – stripped back, almost spoken] Every vine's a graft, that's the secret Cut from one stock, set on another's roots It never once asks if it belongs in the row It reaches for the light and it bears its fruit Drought and flood, the snow on the peaks Fire on the ridge, the heat in the shade It don't get to choose what the season brings It just stands there and stores it, and wine gets made [Final Chorus – full band, gospel voices] I was lost in the numbers, now I'm found in the ground Dirt on my hands, and I've never been more sure The vine don't ask why the hard years come It drinks the rain and it takes the sun And it grows, Lord, it grows Into the best of itself That's all it ever knows [Outro – guitar and voice only] You don't tell it when, it tells you when it's ready You pick it, you press it, and then you wait I'm the best version of myself this year Ask me again next year, Amazing Grace
